Boris grunted.
They’d been keeping her clear of the major cities, although some of the Weres had taken her with them to a couple of the larger towns in the oblast. “This is something you have to answer honestly then, Danislav. Do you see her as a potential asset or detriment to the mission profile?”
He quickly opened his mouth answer, then paused. He thought about her skill with ax, knife and in hand-to-hand. If they wanted to keep this mission below the radar, which they did, she would definitely be an asset.
She might behave oddly on the streets, but most Russians would take that to mean she was drugged or drunk. It wasn’t particularly uncommon to see intoxicated people in the area where the beacon was now transmitting.
And if all hell broke loose and the op was blown she’d shift, which would give them an edge in getting away. It was against orders but…
In team training, she’d shown a vicious maternal instinct to those on her side. To the point where Paul had to caution her and suspend her from training for a week. But that could be an advantage in this situation. Danislav knew she’d be focused on protecting the mission’s primary, to an extent no one else he’d met could.
“Given the mission, I have to say that she would be a significant asset and a slight liability. At least we know she doesn’t freeze with gunfire if it comes to that. And to be honest, I’ve only encountered maybe two dozen who are better naturally at close combat fighting that she. Finally, it prevents me from asking if Janna or Paul are available. We don’t know if this is the Chinese government or the Sacred Clan after all. Both groups would have a hard on to take out anything we consider an asset after what Bethany Anne did.”
Boris grunted in agreement at that. Then he sighed and answered, “Fine, she goes. But warn her that if she operates outside the limits that we defined that it will be the last time I let her go on an operation. Nothing further than close patrols for three months minimum if she screws this one up.”
The rescue squad’s final composition was three Spartans, four Weres, Danislav, and Gyada. It might have seemed overkill, but the Chinese had co-opted one of the local gangs. For all Janna knew, they were walking into a crossfire ambush.
The Weres spread out, covering potential exit points between them and surveying the bystanders. It was nighttime in a warehouse district. There was only a small group of gang members two buildings across.
The Spartans brought their carbines up from under their coats to their shoulders. Danislav set to preparing a breaching charge for the door. Gyada gave him a quizzical look, then moved back 10 paces back and shoulder charged the door. It flew inwards with a ‘crack-thump’ and a shriek of tortured metal. While it was noisy, it was still quieter than the breaching charge would have been.
Danislav and the Spartans were simply surprised that anyone as relatively small as her could take out a steel door.
Danislav was even more impressed that she wasn’t worried about potential injuries from such an action. He could have done it, but his shoulder would have been bruised for the next half hour. He was also a good 20 kg larger than her in human form. That’s why he brought along the breaching charge from the pod once they downloaded building schematics and details.
They also had to rush to catch up to the disappearing woman. The moments that they’d stood there stunned by her actions hadn’t slowed her down a bit. There was the glint of an ax in one of her hands. Then the distinctive sound of a silenced gunshot.
They caught up just in time to see her hit the shooter with the first swing across the chest, back swing across the throat and a third swing to the groin, where she embedded the ax.
He went down with a quiet gurgle. There wasn’t much chance that he’d last long. She paused only to remove her second ax from her belt. Danislav stopped long enough to remove the one embedded in the poor bastard and sped him on his way.
Gyada pushed through, past her falling victim, as if she was following something. All Danislav could smell was the blood and evacuated bowels from her most recent victim. Before that, all he’d been able to smell was the rubbish and detritus from the poorly maintained district.
Something had caught her attention, though. He thought it had to be a scent. She certainly couldn’t have seen anything. Nor could he hear anything, so he doubted it was something she heard.
Danislav managed to catch up with her before they entered the next room, cursing her and telling her to slow down. They were leaving the Spartans well behind them. That meant they were losing any cover fire, and probably that three pissed off Spartans were trailing them.
Danislav had never met a single special forces trooper who liked missing a fight.
Gyada charged for the door that was guarded by a half dozen thugs. They were barely better trained than the average peasant from her time. Brawlers, perhaps, but no real skill behind them. One of them, a beefy Slavic man, interposed himself between her and the door. All that did was give her some cushioning as she slammed him into the door and knocked it down.
Danislav grunted as he saw two of the thugs follow her through the doorway. The other three turned to face him. One had a length of chain, the other two drew pistols. Ducking a swing of the chain Danislav focused on the nastier threat. This is why you set a pace that your fire support could match, damn it, ran through his mind. He managed to swing the ax into the hand drawing a pistol before it could fire. Following it up with a punch to the solar plexus, he put that target out of the fight for some time.
The chain whipped across his back as he turned. A second quick blow wrapped the chain around his upper thigh, and he felt a tug. A grin crossed his face. This was a really bad break of luck.
For his attacker.
There was not enough leverage to pull him down. Maybe if the blow had caught his ankle, but with it wrapped around his upper thigh that attacker was now at Danislav’s mercy. Which was another way of saying no mercy.
He spun in place and switched the ax to his left hand. Grabbing the chain, he yanked the man forward and cleaved his skull in two. The vicious blow cost him his weapon, though. Disarmed, he saw the final thug bring a pistol into line. He raised the body of the dead man in front of him, hoping he’d moved fast enough. Six shots rang out, compressed into too short a time to come from one gun.
His ears ringing from the gunfire, he slowly he lowered the body. Once his vision was clear of the corpse he saw the three Spartans clear the room. Evidently, they’d all shot both thugs… once.
Moving through the blood-spattered room, one of them said, “Chief, it’s best to stay with the team.”
“Tell Gyada that when you catch her, will you? “Danislav bitched. They filed past him as he unwrapped himself.
The Spartan blanched. With how she had broken through the doors, together with the speed at which she moved, he wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything that might upset her.
Especially considering how brutally she’d taken out the first thug.
“Clear!” come back a quick report and Danislav stopped trying to rush himself.
When the Spartans came back into the room a little while later, it was with a blood-covered and somewhat cut up Evgenni. “Boss, you’re going to need to talk to her. Severe Post Combat reaction… I think.”
There was a decidedly odd expression on the Spartan’s face. “We’ll get him to the pod. If we need to, we’ll send for another one, but he’s not too bad. Just need to keep him outta shock.”
They moved past him towards the exit and the pod. There might have been some growls and snarls outside, but a sudden keening focused Danislav’s attention on Gyada. It was with some trepidation he entered the room.